To Cover Any Distance
by Lise Fahn277
Summary: Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet meet as children in the Lambton bookshop and become fast friends, but when life, death, time, and distance (along with the odious Mr. Collins) threaten to tear them apart will they have "the courage of love to cover any distance"? Rated T for mentions of adult themes. WIP.
1. Prologue

_"So what if the distance is too great?_

 _What matters is that we have the courage of love to cover any distance which dares to separate us."_

 _-Anonymous_

 _Prologue_

It started out as a summer day like any other for young Fitzwilliam Darcy. He rose and dressed before descending to the morning room to break his fast with his father, hoping that his mother would feel well enough to join them. She had been quite ill since the birth of his baby sister, Georgiana, and often didn't leave her rooms for weeks at a time, so it was a rare treat when she was able to break her fast with her husband and only son.

Fitzwilliam's hopes were dashed however, when he entered the morning room to see his father seated alone at the head of an empty table.

"Good morning, Father," he said (in what he felt was a very grown-up voice for a thirteen-year-old, why it didn't even crack!).

"Good morning, Fitzwilliam," his father replied. "What are your plans for the day?"

"I don't have any particular plans, Father. I had hoped to accompany you on whatever estate business you need to attend to," he answered, careful not to let too much of his eager hope bleed into his (very grown-up) voice.

George Darcy smiled slightly at his son's attempt to conceal his youthful energy. He wished young Fitzwilliam would find another playmate, one who wasn't George Wickham. He didn't know what had passed between the two friends, but a kind of distance seemed to have grown between the boys while they were at Eton the past year, and Fitzwilliam was far too shy and reserved around strangers to make friends easily.

"In that case, son, I hope you won't mind accompanying me into Lambton to pick out something to help cheer your mother. I thought the bookshop might be a good place to start, what say you?" The excitement in his son's eyes at the prospect was answer enough for George.

* * *

 **A/N: This is a Work-in-Progress, and as such I have not set a definite posting schedule. I do have the prologue and first 2 chapters ready to go, but it will probably be about 10 chapters when all is said and done. Reviews and input are welcome, especially as I am still trying to determine whether or not this story is worth pursuing. _I_ like it, but I don't know if anyone else will ;)**


	2. Chapter 1

**_A/N: Wow! The response to this little story of mine has been amazing! Therefore, I intend to see this through to the hopefully-not-bitter end ;) Just to clarify, this is NOT a story about D/E as children, that's just when they meet. Also, all gaps in timeline are on purpose and hopefully allow you to fill them in with your own ideas of "perfect moments" while moving the story forward at the same time. Reviews are definitely still welcome!_**

* * *

 _5 years later…_

He breathed deep, paused, and pushed open the door. The bell overhead rang as he stepped inside the bookshop, crushing the brim of his hat in his hands as he attempted to tamp down on the hope swelling in his breast just as it had every day for nigh on a month.

"Master Darcy! Back again so soon?" inquired the shopkeeper.

Flushing deeply, the younger man replied, "Yes, Mr. Trent. I'm afraid I may have left my gloves behind yesterday when I picked up the ledger for Mrs. Reynolds."

"Why, yes, I believe you did," Trent replied, eyes twinkling merrily. "If you'll wait here just a moment - "

"Will!" exclaimed the familiar, and very welcome, voice of a young girl and he turned to open his arms to the pale blur that had launched herself at him as she cried his name.

"Lizzy!" he sighed happily, an easy smile overtaking his features as he hugged her slight form to his body. They remained thus for a few moments, each savoring the presence of the other until Lizzy pulled back slightly, looking up at her friend with a happy smile. Will found that he couldn't help but respond with a tender smile of his own for the young girl who had wormed her way into his heart 5 years previous with her open and lively manners and happy disposition. Unusual though it may be, the slight thirteen-year-old girl from a small estate in H-shire had become his best friend; he had found a solace and a joy in her company that had simply never existed in his other relationships, even with his father - the person he respected most in the world.

"Well," she teased, "have you missed me this year?"

He couldn't resist drawing her fully back into his embrace and burying his face in her hair. "You have no idea Lizzy," he breathed.

"I do have _some_ idea, you know," she laughed. "You are the only sensible conversation I get all year, unless you count Jane, which I don't quite, not for a lack of intelligence mind you, rather for her incredible determination to see only good in every person and situation we encounter. At times it is truly ridiculous!" she exclaimed animatedly, leaning back to meet his gaze with her dancing eyes once again.

A throat cleared behind Will and he spun on his heel, releasing Elizabeth and flushing as he did so. "While I certainly know that your true purpose in visiting Derbyshire with me each year is not to spend time with this crotchety old uncle of yours, you are both getting to be of an age that you'd best at least make an attempt to mind propriety in public spaces." Fitzwilliam felt his face burning even more fiercely than it had been a scant minute past and looked down, only to see that Lizzy's face was also flushed scarlet.

"Yes, Uncle." she replied, hanging her head in supposed contrition. Darcy happened to glance over again at that moment however and caught the glint of mischief and laughter sparkling in her eyes. Suddenly the redness of Will's face had very little to do with embarrassment and a great deal to do with suppressing an urge to laugh out loud. Mentally shaking his head, _only Lizzy,_ he thought to himself. Yes indeed, only Lizzy could lighten his mood so quickly and drastically. As her uncle turned away, smiling slightly to himself and shaking his own head at the glint he hadn't missed in his niece's eyes, Lizzy looked up and snatched Will's hand dragging him away to start their summer together.

* * *

 _6 weeks later…_

A door closed and George Darcy looked up to see his son enter, face flushed, hair windswept, and smiling widely. Yes, Lizzy Bennet would do very well for Fitzwilliam, if he could get the boy to realize it at least. His son was already more than half in love with the girl, full young though they were, he simply hadn't recognized it yet.

"I take it you've just come from yet another afternoon with that Bennet girl, am I right son?" he asked wryly. He watched as Fitzwilliam schooled himself and shrunk his smile to a more socially acceptable expression, coming to stand respectfully before his father.

"Yes, father. We were exploring the grounds again today. She truly is an excellent walker!" William replied.

"So you've said," Mr. Darcy responded and chuckled, before inquiring. "And where did you take your honored guest today?"

He watched in confusion as his son flushed and examined his shoes. He paused for a moment before answering, "I took her down the forest path to Mother's arbor, father."

Pain flashed through George Darcy's heart at the mention of his beloved wife's favorite haunt. Swallowing the lump that had risen to his throat. "And how did Miss Bennet find the arbor, Fitzwilliam?"

His son looked up, surprised, if still a little wary, at his father's lack of censure. "She liked it very well indeed, Father." Pausing for a moment, he cleared his throat to continue, "and she was very sympathetic about mother."

Now a muted kind of consternation and anger rose in George Darcy, "And is today truly the first time you have broached the subject with her?" His son was a very private person, but this was beyond ridiculous.

"Father?" came his son's startled question.

"Don't you think, Fitzwilliam, that maybe Miss Bennet deserves somewhat more of your trust than for this to be the first time in _5 years_ that you have spoken to her of your mother?" He fumed, standing from behind his desk and looking at the young man before him.

"You misunderstand, Father. Today was not the first time we have discussed Mother, nor my memories of her, nor my grief at her passing." said Fitzwilliam, his spine straightening and chin lifting before he seemed to wilt and continued more quietly. "It was however, the first time that I allowed her to see how much it still affects me."

Understanding flooded George, and his anger drained; his son was even farther gone than he had realized. Stepping around his desk to stand directly before the young man he was so proud of, causing Fitzwilliam to lift his eyes to meet his own. "You did right, Fitzwilliam, and I am proud of you. It takes great courage to allow those we love to see us in our weakness as well as our strength." Turning away and returning to his chair behind the desk and shuffling through the papers there, remarking, "She will make you a fine wife someday William."

"Father?!" his son's shock was nearly palpable and George chuckled to himself.

"I may be getting on in years, son, but I'm not daft and I'm far from blind. I see the way you look at her, the way you light up when she's around, the ease you find in her presence, and the respect in her eyes when she looks at you. It was the same for your mother and I. Yes, you will be very happy with her." He looked up and met Fitzwilliam's eyes very carefully and steadily, "That is, if someone else doesn't claim her first." Returning to his papers, Mr. Darcy coolly dismissed his son, telling him that he would join him for dinner later.

In a bit of a daze, Fitzwilliam left his father's study and returned to his rooms. Despite his initial shock at hearing his father's thoughts of Elizabeth as a prospective bride for him, he couldn't deny that he had felt his heart clench sickeningly at the thought of another man stealing her away from him. But he didn't _love_ her! He couldn't! He was only 18 for goodness' sake. And she was only 13! What did his father expect him to do, make an offer and ask her to wait until they were old enough to marry properly? Now that he thought about it, maybe that wasn't such a terrible idea. He pondered the idea of marrying Lizzy when they were older, when he had finished school and she had grown out of girlhood. To wake each morning to her smiling face, to start their days walking together through the grounds of Pemberley, to break their fast together, to take picnics and holidays, to have children to love and cherish, to see them grow and marry and have children of their own, to grow old with her, and to slip into eternal sleep with her at his bedside.

It painted a pretty picture, a _very_ pretty picture if he was honest with himself. If he pictured it the only other way it could possibly end, her leaving one summer and never returning, reading the notice of her engagement and subsequent marriage to another man, seeing her in passing for a brief moment on a London street, hardly better than strangers, to die knowing that she was a world away and in the arms of another...even now the pain of it stole his breath.

No, he decided, his father was right. He _did_ love her, or he very nearly did, and he would never be truly happy with another. It was far better to speak early than late. Tomorrow, he decided. He would ask her to be his wife tomorrow. They had arranged to meet at the horse-chestnut tree by the smithy in the morning in order to begin their daily walk, and the walk would certainly serve his purpose. He understood that they would have to wait some time, but they would be betrothed and no one would ever be able to take her away from him, nor him from her.

Resolved upon his course of action, he glanced at the clock, straightened his clothing and went to meet his father for dinner.


	3. Chapter 2

**_A/N: There was some confusion from my comment about "the hopefully-not-bitter end" last week. Therefore, I wanted to clarify for you all that I do intend to give D &E an HEA. The "end" I was referring to was my own enjoyment of the writing process, as there are times when I enjoy it very much and other times when it feels like a chore. In other words, I hope that my experience with writing a full-length fic will be an enjoyable, rather than bitter, one._**

* * *

 _3 years later…_

He breathed deep, paused, and pushed open the door. The bell overhead rang just as it always had as he stepped inside the bookshop, crushing the brim of his hat in his hands as he attempted to tamp down on the hope swelling in his breast just as it had every day of every summer for the past three years.

Really, he berated himself, bitterness flooding his heart and mind, if she hadn't come back by now, she probably never would. She would be sixteen now, a beautiful young woman, no doubt still carefree and full of warmth and laughter, a string of beaux trailing behind her wherever she went.

He had never gotten the chance to speak as he had planned. After his discussion with his father and his decision to ask her to be his wife he had never seen her again. _Even my letters return unopened,_ he thought bitterly.

It had been their practice for years to write to one another through the medium of her Uncle Gardiner who accompanied her each summer on a visit to Lambton, but after she disappeared the day of his intended proposal, Mr. Gardiner had returned each and every one of his letters. Eventually, he had stopped sending them, though he still wrote to her, the letters were now immediately consigned to a locked drawer in his chambers.

A quiet gasp broke into his reflections and he looked up suddenly. He blinked, shook his head and blinked again. She was still there.

"Lizzy!" he cried in shock and joy, moving immediately to stand before her and crush her into his embrace. He sent a heartfelt prayer of gratitude to heaven for sending her back to his arms before he realized that she was stiff and unyielding rather than returning his embrace as she had been wont to do.

"Lizzy?!" he repeated in alarm, leaning back to hold her away from him at arm's length. She was ashen-faced with her eyes screwed tightly shut. He let his hands drop from her arms to her hands and felt them trembling. As he watched in confusion, a tear ran down her cheek, he reached out in horror to wipe it away.

He had made her _cry_! This wasn't right, he was supposed to bring her joy, not this fear he now saw on her face. He looked at the tear smeared across his fingertips for a moment longer before he snapped back to reality. He took a firm step away from her and shut off his own feelings in light of her less-than-ideal response to their reunion, straightening to his full height and assuming the mask that he had never before used in her presence.

"Miss Bennett, I apologize for frightening you. It was very forward of me to act in so familiar a manner, no matter our background and shared history. I humbly beg your forgiveness."

Startled, her eyes opened and he saw that the pain and fear of the previous minutes had been replaced with confusion and - was it possible? - regret. _Ah,_ he sighed internally, _but regret for what?_ Well, he'd simply have to wait and see. He knew that he wanted her in his life, no matter the cost, so he would proceed at the pace she felt comfortable with, rather than the one he had spent the past 3 years imagining.

She stepped forward impulsively and took his hands back in her own, her eyes earnest as she spoke. "No, Mr. Darcy! You merely startled me. I am afraid that we have been so long apart that I hardly held any hope that you would recognize me, let alone embrace me as the friends we once were." She attempted to release his hands and turned her face away to hide from him the tears that threatened to fall as her voice broke on this, but William grasped her dainty fingers more tightly and wouldn't let her escape him.

" _Are,_ Elizabeth. The friends we _are_." he whispered. "Nothing has changed for me these three years. Indeed scarcely a day has passed me by without thoughts of you in nearly every waking moment." _And some of the sleeping ones too,_ he added mentally.

Her tears began to fall in earnest at this pronouncement. "Elizabeth," he spoke in low tones to avoid calling attention to their discussion as he led her to the secluded reading nook in which they had first met, "please, _please_ won't you tell me what distresses you so? Will you not confide in me? I am as much your friend as I ever was, if you are in some trouble surely there must be something I can do to aid you!"

Still weeping softly, Elizabeth accepted the handkerchief he had retrieved from his breast pocket for her. "I cannot, sir. I cannot! Though I would dearly like to, I fear that I would lose your good opinion and that pain is not one that I could bear." Her sobs redoubled as she made this statement.

"Lizzy," he whispered gently, taking the handkerchief from her and tenderly drying her face with it himself. "You must know by now - surely you must! - that you could _never_ lose my good opinion. Never!" At his fervent words, she looked up at him, cautious hope in her eyes and took a deep breath, never looking away from the sapphire blue she had missed so dearly these past 3 years. She decided to trust him, to tell him all and opened her mouth to speak…

The bell over the door tinkled as another customer entered the shop, snapping her back to her senses as she looked toward the front counter. Yes, she could trust him, but she couldn't tell him everything here in public. Her eyes snapped back to his, a wild and reckless determination overtaking her sense of propriety as she crushed his fingers in hers. "Not here, William. Not now. Tomorrow morning, early, before anyone else is about. I will meet you just after dawn under the tree by the smithy," a smile softened her face as she continued, "just as I meant to three years ago."

"Tomorrow, you will explain all?" he asked hesitantly, rising slowly from his seat at her side, reluctant to part from her, but knowing that he must or rumors would spread quickly and she would be forced into a marriage with him. Despite his desire for such an outcome, he wanted it to be her desire as well, her choice, not the consequence of a supposed compromise. She rose with him, her hands still in his large, warm ones.

"Yes, William. I promise you, tomorrow morning I will be there and I _will_ tell you all. Now go!" she whispered urgently and shoved him gently in the direction of the door. Watching as he turned to look at her once more, jammed his hat on his head and strode resolutely out the door. _Tomorrow morning,_ she told herself. She would see him tomorrow morning.


	4. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Long chapter today. Enjoy!**_

* * *

Just before dawn the next morning, Lizzy went to meet William at their tree, terrified once more of his response and nearly regretting her promise to confide in him.

"Snap out of it, Lizzy! You trust him more than anyone else in the world," she muttered to herself as she trekked through the dark to the prearranged meetingplace.

"Still talking to yourself, I see," came a voice out of the darkness, causing Lizzy to jump at the unexpected sound.

"Will? Is that you?" she asked breathlessly.

He chuckled at that, "Who else would be mad enough to be out here before even the crack of dawn? I'm just glad that my father has started sleeping later than he used to, else he might have caught me sneaking out the front door this morning. As it was, not even the staff had risen yet."

"Exactly how long have you been here this morning?" Lizzy asked suspiciously.

His chagrined voice replied that he'd been at the tree for some 40 minutes. "I couldn't sleep," he said quietly, reaching out to grasp her hand. "I couldn't stop imagining what you might tell me this morning."

"Oh William," Lizzy sighed in regret, her arm stretching up to stroke the face she had missed the past three years. "I never should have agreed to burden you with my concerns."

"Tell me, Lizzy," he pleaded, reaching up with his own hand to hold hers in place and leaning his cheek into her palm. "What is it that has caused you such pain?"

The tenderness she saw in his eyes, even in the near-darkness surrounding them, humbled her, and she said sadly, "It will be easier to show you, but I cannot do so here. The cottage at the edge of Pemberley's woods, is it still empty?"

"Yes, it is," he replied in some confusion.

"Then let us go there." And so saying, she set off in the correct direction, his hand still intertwined with her own.

Fitzwilliam spent the majority of the walk alternately marvelling that Lizzy truly was here once again, in his life, and puzzling over what she intended to show him that would explain her three-year absence but that could not be revealed in public.

If this hadn't been Lizzy, whom he trusted completely and wanted to marry anyway, he would have feared an entrapment. Even at the tender age of 21 and still attending Cambridge, he was acknowledged to be "a very good prospect" and had already been the target of several such schemes. But this was Lizzy, and he did want to marry her, so his mind instead turned to the many dire possibilities it could conjure for the reason behind yesterday's distress.

When they arrived at the small hut, he opened the door and followed her over the threshold.

"Now," he began after securing the door behind them, "What is it that made you leave me without even a note and that has kept you away for so long? What is so terrible that you could not tell me at the bookstore nor show me under our tree?"

Wordlessly and with great trepidation, Lizzy stepped away from him and turned her back, reaching to undo the first few buttons of her dress.

"Lizzy!" Darcy gasped in shock, grasping her hands tightly, "What are you doing?!"

"Showing you what you need to know, Will! Now help me or leave! This is difficult enough to share without your consternation over my method of doing so," she shot back angrily, fighting tears of hurt at his response.

She stilled as she felt his hands release hers and come to rest gently on her shoulders as he stepped closer. "I'm sorry, Lizzy," he said softly, before laughing lightly and starting on her buttons. "It was a bit of surprise though, when you began taking off your clothes. I must admit that it was the last thing I expected!"

"That's fair, I suppose," she chuckled in return, grateful for these few moments of good humor. Growing serious once more, she clutched the front of her dress to her body as his fingers undid the last of the buttons.

Helping Lizzy unbutton her dress was even more difficult than Darcy would have supposed. His heart had faltered whenever his fingers had accidentally brushed her stays or chemise and he had focused intently on quelling his reaction to her nearness and state of undress. Thus it was that he failed to comprehend the sight before him until he stepped away from her.

"Lizzy!" he gasped, in a tone so horrified that there was no mistaking his focus. She flinched slightly when she felt his calloused fingers gently trace the edge of a bruise on her shoulder and then the beginnings of a scar that disappeared beneath her stays.

"What has happened?!" he cried in a hoarse whisper as he examined the story of abuse that covered her back, a collage of scars and bruises so vivid that many were clearly visible even through the fabric of her chemise.

"My cousin," Lizzy stated flatly, shrugging her dress back into place and signalling to William that his help was required to refasten the gown.

She made to step away from him as he finished, but was stopped by a firm hand on her elbow and instead turned to meet his gaze.

"Tell me everything," he demanded.

With a resigned sigh, Lizzy led him to a bench placed along one wall of the small room. When they were both settled, she took a deep breath and began to recount all that had happened since the day she had intended to meet him under their tree on the green.

"I can only imagine how hurt you were, how confused," she began, "when I failed to meet you as we had planned that morning, but my uncle received an express from my Uncle Phillips the night before, informing us that my Father was gravely ill and begging us to return to Longbourn immediately. We were shocked at the news, he was in perfect health when we left him! In all the confusion and anxiety, I didn't even think to ask Uncle to leave a note for you. Instead we packed our things as quickly as possible and left, stopping only to exchange horses on our journey.

"But it was all for naught!" she sobbed, her voice breaking and tears falling from her eyes as she relived her grief. Will pressed her hands between his own, unsure how else to comfort her but needing to do something. She drew a shaky breath, shooting him a grateful look, and, swallowing her tears, pressed on. "He was already gone when we arrived and the house was in turmoil. Mama was in hysterics and poor Jane, though she was only just turned fifteen, was left to run the entire household while Uncle Phillips did his best to handle the day-to-day running of the estate as he planned the funeral for Papa. I never imagined that any day could be worse than that one."

Suddenly her voice hardened, her back stiffened, and her eyes left his to focus on something in the distance. "I was wrong," she said. "Scarcely a week had passed when our cousin, Mr. Collins, my father's heir, arrived to take possession of the estate. I believe his original intent was to throw us all out without a so much as a second thought, but he met Jane, who truly is an beauty, and instead he gave Mama a choice: allow him to marry Jane at once, or face a life in the hedgerows. Well, Mama agreed to speak with Jane who, always believing the best of everyone, accepted his offer and became his wife in order to 'save' the rest of us. Though I've often wondered since whether it would not have been better to live in the hedgerows than under his roof," she muttered bitterly.

"You need say no more," William told her, turning her chin in order to meet her eyes. "I believe I can guess the rest."

"No!" Lizzy replied harshly. "You wanted to know all, and now that I have begun, for the first time, to tell someone the truth of things, I very much want to share the burden with someone I can trust. Please, Will," she said, her tone gentling as she tried to explain what she felt, "I want to share this with you. We've never had any secrets between us before and I refuse to let my despicable cousin take you away from me in addition to everything else he has stolen."

"Very well, Lizzy. But only if you truly wish to. I would not want to cause you pain by forcing you to revisit something you would rather forget," William said seriously.

"Thank you," she smiled, "But I think I need to share the load, so to speak. And there's no one I'd rather share it with than you, William."

The trust in her eyes touched him deeply and he resolved in that moment to be whoever and whatever she need him to be. He had loved her for years, the enforced separation of the past three years serving only to deepen his regard. If he was not yet the man she needed, he would do everything in his power to become that man and he prayed that she would be patient with him as he strove to do so. If all she asked of him for now was to listen and to share her burden, then he would do it gladly, along with anything else he could imagine to lessen the weight she carried in her heart. He only prayed that she could read as much in his eyes.

"Mr. Collins is not a good husband to Jane," Lizzy continued darkly, "But he treats her better than he does the rest of us. Jane is naturally docile and sweet, everything ladylike in demeanor and comportment, as well as appearance, so he has little to reproach her with - though she must endure attentions the rest of us have so far escaped. Mama he ridicules and ignores by turns, much as Papa used to do, but where Papa sought only to make sport of the follies she would not correct, Mr. Collins seeks to humiliate. I think it has broken her spirit; she was never very strong, but now she is only a shadow of the woman she used to be, and I've discovered that I miss her nerves and flights of fancy." Here she paused in bittersweet reflection on what had been and no longer was.

"And what of you?" Darcy gently prompted when she had been lost in thought for some minutes.

"Pardon my inattention," she said softly, shaking her head and smiling sadly. "I take the worst of it, I suppose," she continued. "He was in residence for less than a day before he deemed me 'wild' and in need of taming, though he refrained from saying so until my uncles had departed for their own homes. He beats me quite regularly. For offences both real and imagined," she said bitterly, feeling the telltale sting of tears behind her eyes and fought to keep from burying her face in his shoulder and giving voice to the depth of her pain in a wash of saltwater.

"I admit that I sometimes act out in order to draw his attention away from Kitty and Lydia. They were so young when it all happened that they don't remember much of what life was like at the time and have somehow managed to retain a small portion of their youthful joy and exuberance. At times they do act inappropriately, but I find I do not have it within me to stifle the little sunshine in their lives by encouraging strict propriety. Thus the only way I have to protect them from our cousin's ire is to draw it myself. I know that it is wrong to actively seek his punishments and then to hate him for them, but I do! I know that I ought to let my sisters learn from the consequences of their actions, but I cannot bear to see it happen! I know that I should trust God and thank Him for the circumstance in which I find myself, but I sometimes feel that He has abandoned me...that I'm not worthy of even the all-encompassing love of God."

"Lizzy," Will said, forcing her to meet his eyes once more. "God loves you, and He has not abandoned you. Never believe that!" he murmured fiercely, holding her gaze. "Love is not something anyone earns. Not one of us is 'worthy' of love, especially the kind of unconditional love God offers. Respect is earned, trust is earned, but love? Love can only be freely given. God loves you because you are His child and He sees more in you than anyone else ever could. Even me," he muttered softly, praying she could read his sincerity in his eyes. "I love you, more than I can say. You did nothing to earn it; it was a choice I made - the very same choice you make each time you seek to protect your sisters at the expense of your own pain."

When the tears she had earlier repressed welled up again in her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks, he reached out to fold her into his arms, holding her close. His heart sighed in contentment to have her there, even as it ached for her pain. "You are worth every good thing. No matter what that slime has beaten into you." He reached out, laying his hand on her cheek and smoothing away her tears with his thumb when she leaned into the contact. "I wish I could take you away from him forever!" he whispered angrily. "I wish I could run him through with Richard's saber! I wish...I wish...I wish so many things!" he sighed, his voice softening once more as he tucked his face into her hair. "But most of all, I wish that I could take away your pain, that I could make it so that you never experience anything but joy. That does not lie within my power, however, no matter how fervently I may wish it."

Tears ran thick and fast from her eyes now as she reached up to twine her hand into his hair, holding him to her more securely. "Oh William, what did I ever do to deserve you?" she sobbed, then laughed, "I know, I know: 'nothing, it was a choice'. Truly though, you are wonderful! You have no idea how it felt yesterday. I have spent 3 years longing to tell you, unable even to write because my cousin reads all of our correspondence. And then, there you were! Standing before me, asking me to tell you what was wrong. Trusting you, loving you, but terrified that you would think ill of me when you knew, that you would turn away.

"I thought, when I came this summer, that it would be better to bear it all myself than to risk losing your esteem. I had determined not to tell you, but when you embraced me so joyfully, your arms pressed my bruises and the pain sent my mind spinning back to when he gave them to me and you saw! You saw the pain no one else has taken the time to see, and that alone meant the world to me. But this? This whole-hearted acceptance has been beyond my wildest dreams. I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy! You truly are the best man I have ever known. And I know that it is improper of me to speak so, but my heart is full and I must speak or go mad," Lizzy declared between sobs.

"Lizzy!" Darcy cried as a joyful smile stole over his face, erasing all traces of the sorrow they had shared only moments before. "Lizzy, I love you as well!" he declared. "Please, marry me! Let me take you away from your cousin! Let me love you and help you heal! Let me slay your dragons for the rest of our lives!"

Confusion crept into his mind as he saw her smile falter and pain return to her eyes. "Lizzy? What is it? What have I said? Do you not want me?" he asked, releasing her fearfully. Of course she doesn't you daft fool, he thought to himself. She loves you as a friend, nothing more. You've no one but yourself to blame for your assumptions when your heart breaks in a moment.

"No, William! No! Don't ever think that! I do! I do love you! And I do want you! I should like nothing better than to say yes and let you carry me off into the sunset," Lizzy cried, desperately holding his face, horrified that he could ever think that she didn't want him. "But I have a responsibility to my family, to my sisters. I cannot leave them with that monster. And you must finish your education. I couldn't bear to be the cause if Pemberley were to suffer because you left university early for me."

Will's face fell, his shoulders slumped, and Lizzy read the disappointment in his eyes as the logic in her words cut through the emotion of the moment to his rational mind.

"Well," he said. "I suppose we can stay in contact, and maybe...when you're back a few summers from now -" He trailed off at the sight of her shaking her head sadly.

"I'm not coming back, Will," she said gently. "Uncle Gardiner has fought Mr. Collins for his permission for this annual trip each year since Papa died, but he has been unsuccessful in obtaining it even for so much as a visit to his home in London. The only reason my cousin relented this summer was because Uncle Gardiner is to wed Miss Madeline Trent. She insisted that, as she has no surviving female relatives of her own, she required the assistance of my Uncle's 'favorite niece' to prepare for her marriage. It is not a luxury I expect will be repeated anytime soon."

"Oh. Well maybe - " he started hopefully.

"No, Will," she sighed. "The only way I can ever hope to escape him is to marry someone who is in a position to support not only me but also my sisters, and you simply aren't in that position at the moment. You need to finish your education. Your father is ill - yes, the good people of Lambton know and have spoken of it to us. Your sister needs you; she has no one else to rely on. Someday, when you are ready - and if you still care for me - we can revisit the idea."

Heaving a gusty sigh, William pulled her gently into his arms once more, burying his face in the soft cloud of her hair. "You are right," he admitted, "But Lizzy, will you promise me that if I do manage to think of something, you will at least hear me out?"

"I very much doubt that you will, but if you do...I will hear you out," she replied solemnly, looking at the light filtering through the small window beside the door. The sun was well and truly risen by now. "I should go. My uncle will be getting worried," she said, moving to extricate herself from his embrace.

He tightened his hold on her infinitesimally; he had one more question for her before he was willing to part from her. "Lizzy?" he asked. "May I have your permission to seek my father's guidance in this matter?"

She looked at him seriously as she considered his request. "Yes, Fitzwilliam. You may seek your father's counsel. I wish for you to discover a solution to this as much as you do."

He nodded his understanding and with one last glance, filled with all the emotion they had no words to express, she opened the door and stepped out into the early morning light, leaving Fitzwilliam to think on the dilemma they faced.


	5. Chapter 4

George Darcy looked up in surprise when Fitzwilliam entered the morning room at half past eight; it was unlike his son to rise so late. _Then again,_ George sighed to himself, _it was as uncommon for myself as for him not so long ago._ Melancholy crept over him as he pondered on how quickly his life had changed. His doctor had told him that his remaining time in this life was limited, now all George could do was try to hang on until Fitzwilliam finished Cambridge. Each day was a battle, but one in which he had so far been the victor.

"Good morning, Fitzwilliam," George prompted when he realized that, on entering the room, his son had done no more than cross to the windows.

"Good morning, Father," his son replied, absentmindedly turning away from the window and preparing himself a plate and seating himself at the table.

George eyed the plate before his son and asked pointedly, "And just when did you discover such a fondness for black pudding, Fitzwilliam? I was under the impression that you detested the stuff."

"What?" Fitzwilliam asked with a start, shaking his head slightly and staring at the food on his plate as though he had no idea how it had come to be there. "Yes, you're quite right," he said with a grimace, before returning to the sideboard in order to prepare a fresh plate.

"I'm sorry, Father," he apologized, taking his seat once more, a deep sadness in his eyes as he continued, "my mind was otherwise occupied."

"So I noticed," came the sardonic reply before George started again, more gently. "Son, you know that, whatever troubles you, you have my aid. I will assist in whatever capacity I am able."

"Yes, Father, I know. And I need your help and your counsel, but I fear my grief is still too fresh," he responded, his sorrow bleeding into the words. "I am not yet certain that I can discuss it rationally."

"Sometimes," the elder Darcy stated slowly, "sometimes to speak irrationally and to do so while the grief is fresh is the best way to conquer it and begin healing. I locked away my own grief at your mother's passing for too long and allowed it to fester within me and draw me away from you and Georgiana. There are times when she still looks at me as warily as she would a stranger. Share your burden, my son. The load is easier to carry when there are two to bear it up."

With his father's sage wisdom ringing in his ears, Fitzwilliam's grief overflowed and he covered his face with his hands as he wept, telling the story in broken sentences that spilled from his lips between sobs.

"I fear that I am failing her," he said when the rush of emotion had abated. "I love her so dearly, but I cannot see a way to help her."

"It is indeed a difficult situation, but I do not think it so hopeless as you fear," replied his father, the hand on Fitzwilliam's shoulder as warm and comforting as it had ever been, if not quite as substantial. "It is true that you are in no position to take a wife just yet, let alone to care for her sisters. She was right to insist that you finish your education. You will need every scrap of knowledge you can gain at Cambridge, as well as whatever wisdom I can provide in the time I have left. The estate will need you to be a confident and effective master, unfortunately sooner rather than later. Miss Bennet was also right that Georgiana needs you. She looks up to you almost more as a father than a brother. No," George cut off the protest on his son's lips, "it is true, and I am grateful that she has had you to step into those shoes when I did not or could not. I have been trying to remedy the situation, but it is difficult to rebuild broken trust. In short, your Elizabeth was perfectly rational in her refusal."

"Would you have me do nothing then?! While the woman who owns my heart suffers at the hands of one who should protect her?!" Fitzwilliam cried in indignation.

"Of course not!" his father huffed. "I would never suggest such a thing. I merely wished to illustrate the obstacles you must overcome. No son, we _will_ do something to aid Miss Bennet - that much I promise you - but first we need to examine the problem carefully. If we do not act correctly, it could make things worse for her when she returns home, as I fear she must." George trailed off as he pondered all that his son had told him.

"Think on this, Fitzwilliam," he instructed. "I will do the same. We will develop a plan, and, when we feel that we are ready, approach your Lizzy about it." The hope in Fitzwilliam's eyes at these words gave his father the determination to accomplish this one last thing for his son in spite of his advancing illness.

… _..._

"Lizzy, I have an idea," William said as they neared the end of their morning walk about a fortnight later. "About the situation with your cousin."

"Go on," she replied cautiously.

"Well, my father and I have been discussing it, but he wants to speak with your uncle about a few things before I tell you anything more," he hedged. "Does Mr. Gardiner know what's been happening?"

"I have spoken about it with no one but you," she told him truthfully, "though I do believe that he at least suspects something of the nature."

"Are you both free to take tea with us this afternoon?" he asked, his eyes never leaving hers. "If you are, my father will speak to your uncle while you and I tour the gardens or some such activity, and then we can present the plan to you during tea itself."

"I shall ask him immediately upon my return to the inn and he will send a note to your father with our answer. If such would be acceptable, that is?" she said, looking up at his dear, serious face.

"Very much," he sighed in relief, a smile spreading over his face before he lifted her hand from his arm to his lips and teased, "Until then, Miss Bennet." The feeling of her other hand upon his cheek, brought his eyes back to hers and the warmth and tenderness he found there served to lighten his already-hopeful mood.

As he released her and turned away to set out for Pemberley, he heard her quiet laugh and could clearly picture her rolling her eyes as she fondly murmured, "Oh, William."

After two weeks of agonizing over the situation and working nearly every waking moment to create a plan with his father, the hope that bubbled in his heart lightened his feet on the walk back to Pemberley.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry about the wait! My life is crazy at the moment (long story) and I didn't have time to review, edit, and post last week. Here's your update though!**

* * *

Lizzy waited anxiously for Uncle Gardiner and Mr. Darcy to exit the study. Will had been very close-mouthed about the affair. _Keeping the promise he made to his father,_ she huffed to herself.

At the faint noise, William turned away from the window and came to sit beside the woman he loved, taking her hand in his.

"They should be joining us any minute, Lizzy," he reassured her. "I know that having your fate in the hands of someone else is frustrating and nerve-wracking, but they both love you and only want to protect you as best they can."

"I know," she grumbled. "Still, I can't help but wish that I knew what they're saying in there! It's my life hanging in the balance!"

His thumb began tracing soft circles on the back of her hand as he smiled. "I love you, Lizzy. If it wasn't so imperative that this be done in precisely the right way in order to avoid any repercussions when you return to Longbourn…" he trailed off. "Well, there are questions that my father must ask your uncle so that we can be prepared to make this successful, and he doesn't wish to raise your hopes any more than he must, in the case that it turns out to be impossible."

She sighed again, squeezing his hand briefly and leaning her head on his shoulder. "I understand, Will. I just wish that I could be included in the discussions."

"And you will be, as soon as they determine whether or not this plan really is workable," William said, his arm wrapping around her and holding her gently, his other hand still tracing circles on hers.

She looked up at him, her expression equal parts fear and hope, "William, I -" The sound of the door to the parlor opening cut her off and she jumped from his embrace to face the older gentlemen who entered.

On seeing the smile on the faces of both men, Fitzwilliam's posture relaxed and a hopeful smile of his own lit his face as he rose to his feet.

"Father?" he asked as he stepped forward. George Darcy reached out to his son, clapping him on the shoulder.

"It will work Fitzwilliam. It will work. All we have left to figure out are the specific details, which we hoped to do with the two of you," he said, turning to indicate Lizzy as well before suggesting that they be seated and ring the bell for tea.

After the tea was delivered by Mrs. Reynolds and they had settled in for the discussion, Mr. Darcy explained the plan that he and Fitzwilliam had developed over the past two weeks.

"We all understand the situation at Longbourn and are in agreement that, while there are good reasons for Miss Bennet to remain there a while longer, we need some kind of contingency plan that will allow for her removal, as well as her family's, in case Mr. Collins' behavior escalates. To accomplish this, someone needs to have a powerful, legal claim and the means to enforce it. My son and I have the means and the influence necessary, but Miss Bennet is correct that we are unable to provide a suitable environment for her and her sisters at this time. I am quite ill and Fitzwilliam needs to complete his education and establish himself as the master of Pemberley before he will be able to devote the time and energy necessary to the upkeep of an entire family." At this, George turned to Lizzy, addressing her directly, "However, there is no way to guarantee that your situation, Miss Bennet, will remain as it is until such a time, nor that you will be able to continue to bear up under it if it does. It is a matter of priorities. At the moment, your first priority is keeping your sisters as safe and comfortable as possible in spite of the circumstances - at the moment that means your continued residence at Longbourn. On the other hand, your own health and safety _must_ be taken into account."

Mr. Darcy's voice grew even more solemn and he fixed Lizzy with a stare that demonstrated from whom William had inherited his intensity. "Miss Bennet," he said. "I need your word that, if we execute this plan, you will not hesitate to contact Fitzwilliam when the violence enacted toward yourself or your sisters begins to escalate. If you wait, there is no guarantee that he will be able to reach you in time to prevent grave harm to either yourself or your family. Can you promise me this?"

Lizzy swallowed at the gravity of his implications and acknowledged that she could, and would, make the desired promise.

"Good," George exhaled in relief. "Now, as for our plan, your uncle tells me that he is to wed Miss Madeline Trent in another two and a half weeks, after which your cousin has allowed you two additional days in Derbyshire as well as the time required for your journey home. Your uncle has agreed to speak with Miss Trent about moving the wedding a week earlier, if that is not possible, then he will write to your cousin about an issue with the carriage or an illness or some such excuse and telling him that you will arrive a week later than originally anticipated. In either circumstance, with the extra time, we four - with the possible addition of Miss Trent - will travel to Gretna Green, where you and William will be wed."

When Lizzy opened her mouth to renew her protests at this, George held up his hand to forestall her. "Allow me to finish, Miss Bennet." Biting her tongue and nodding at Mr. Darcy, she settled back into her chair to hear him out.

"Thank you. Now, this will give him the legal right to remove you from your cousin's home at any time, especially as it will be witnessed by myself and Mr. Gardiner - who is your legal guardian, though he does not possess the resources necessary to have it enforced, nor the means to support you all indefinitely. However, as you have astutely pointed out, now is not the time for Fitzwilliam to truly take a wife, so you will return with Mr. Gardiner to Longbourn directly after the marriage and will remain there until you reach your majority, _or_ write to my son as we have just discussed. At that time, he will come to Hertfordshire to retrieve you, your sisters, and your mother. Unfortunately, if Mr. Collins is still living and is unwilling to relinquish his wife, Fitzwilliam will not be able to remove Mrs. Collins from his home, though from what you have disclosed it seems that she is in far less danger from him than the rest of your family.

"When you have all been removed from Longbourn, if you both still desire this match, you will be able to marry from London with a license. The marriage in Scotland, while binding enough provide leverage against your cousin, will be easily annulled if either of you so desire. If you do choose to annul the marriage, you will all live with your uncle. In the meantime, on our return from Scotland in a few weeks, Fitzwilliam and I will arrange for a sum of money to be held in trust for your family and invested. Then, if you do choose an annulment, the interest will be paid out each year to Mr. Gardiner for your support and that of your family."

As his father finished, Fitzwilliam turned to the young woman and asked hopefully, "Well Lizzy, what do you think?"


	7. Chapter 6

**_A/N: Just to clarify for everyone, I am writing this for fun and therefore am not doing extensive research into the laws of Regency England. I am trying to operate within the society and laws as I understand them through Austen's novels, but I'm not going to spend hours trying to figure out if any of this would/could have really happened this way. I have no pretensions of becoming a real author and don't want to mislead anyone into thinking that this is anything more than a what-if about fictional characters in a book that I love (but sadly did not write) that deals with several topics that are important to me._**

 ** _That being said, this chapter is mostly fluff that I probably could have skipped to move the story along, but really wanted to write anyway. ;) Enjoy!_**

* * *

 _2 weeks later..._

Fitzwilliam Darcy found it difficult to believe that he was eloping. Running off to Scotland for his wedding was one experience he had never imagined his life would hold. On the other hand, he mused, what choice did they have? Given the circumstances, he didn't see much of an alternative. _What truly matters is the person I wed, not the place,_ he thought as he gazed tenderly down on the sleeping young woman at his side.

They had begun their journey properly situated, with William and Lizzy beside their respective guardians, though the arrangement had been short-lived. Lizzy had fallen asleep quickly and William sadly recalled the tremors that had wracked her when she had been unable to escape her nightmares alone. Once Mr. Gardiner finally succeeded in rousing her, they were alarmed to see that she continued to tremble in wakefulness, tears slipping down her cheeks. At least until William took her hands in his and she promptly clambered into his lap. His shirt was still wet where he had cradled her head against him.

Given the more-than-adequate chaperonage of the young couple, the two guardians had decided that it might be wiser for Lizzy to sit beside William, rather than on him. Now she slept quietly at his side, his arm draped across her shoulders and her cheek pressed into his chest.

He dropped a gentle kiss on the top of her head, humbled once more that this wonderful woman loved him and trusted him to care for her, enough that she would agree to this far-fetched plan, enough that she found peace with him when not even her beloved uncle could comfort her. He knew that whenever they were reunited, whether in 2 years or 5, an annulment would only occur if it was _her_ wish, as his would always be for her at his side.

Lizzy stirred sleepily, nuzzling him in her efforts to return to consciousness. He rubbed gentle circles where his hand rested on her arm, glancing up to see his father and Mr. Gardiner conveniently occupied with the scenery outside the carriage windows. He chuckled softly as he drew her tighter to him.

Her dark eyes blinked softly up at him, before she turned her face back into his chest, breathing in his scent.

"I love waking up to your face," she murmured into him, so softly that he almost missed it.

He pressed his face into the curls atop her head and replied just as softly, "Someday, you'll be able to do so every day if you wish."

She pulled back and met his gaze once more, now fully awake. "Do you doubt me?" she said fiercely.

Gently drawing her back into his arms and kissing her temple he explained that, while he was certain of his own heart, it would be presumptuous in the extreme to take such a gift as hers for granted. Exasperated at his overblown sense of chivalry and propriety, but pleased that his comment had stemmed from that rather than from a lack of faith in her constancy, she settled back against his side and enjoyed the view of the countryside through the window.

"When will we arrive in Scotland do you think?" she asked some time later.

"Not long now," her uncle replied. "Another two hours at most."

A shiver ran down her spine at his words. In just a few hours, she would be Fitzwilliam's wife - in name, if not in deed. They would belong to each other. The prospect thrilled her, and looking up at him, she knew it did him as well.

…

When they finally arrived in Scotland that afternoon, it was warm and sunny, a perfect day for a wedding.

Just after the party had crossed over the border, they had passed by an ancient oak tree, it's trunk so wide that Lizzy was certain she could never compass it, even with the addition of William's arm-span, and she had sighed to herself. What a beautiful memory it would be - to be married in such a place. William, hearing her sigh, had glanced out the window as well and filed away Lizzy's reaction for later reference.

Once rooms had been secured at the inn, discussion between the two guardians turned to where the ceremony should take place. No one truly desired the young couple to be wed "over the anvil", but Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy were having difficulty proposing a different locale when Fitzwilliam caught his father's ear with a whispered suggestion as Lizzy slipped inside to use the privy.

"Well my dear, are you ready to marry this fine young man?" her uncle asked when she emerged.

"I am Uncle. Have you found somewhere to hold the ceremony?"

"We have. It is some 10 minutes by carriage - _just_ this side of the border - but I believe you will be pleased," he teased.

"I will be well pleased with anywhere, so long as it is William I marry," Lizzy declared, and the young man's heart raced at the words.

A smiling Uncle Gardiner replied, "As true as that may be, we have found a location that I believe will enhance your memories of this day rather than detract from them."

Lizzy laughed and allowed him to hand her back into the carriage, settling in beside her bridegroom once more.

…

When they drew near what Lizzy presumed to be the chosen location, she was surprised to see the gentlemen drawing the shades, and then to hear Fitzwilliam telling her to close her eyes before he lifted her from the carriage.

"William!" she laughed when he set her on her feet but neglected to release her waist.

"I can't have you injuring yourself in a fall before we wed now, can I?" he teased. "You might not be able to say your vows." She laughed again and his breath caught in response to the warm sound.

William carefully led his bride across the field to stand beneath the great oak. He took his place before her and clasped her hands in his before quietly telling her to open her eyes.

Her reaction was everything he could have wished, her brow crinkling in confusion, then smoothing again as a dazzling smile lit her face as she realized where they were. Finally, with tears in her eyes, she met his tender gaze once more.

"How did you know?" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

He shrugged and said simply, "I heard you sigh and saw you smile, and when I looked out the window, this is what I saw. I knew you would like it better than a blacksmith's shop."

"It is perfect," she said fervently.

"I love you, Lizzy," William said. "And I want to show you that every day of my life. I want to make you smile and laugh. I want to dry your tears and chase away your nightmares. I want to hold and protect you for the rest of forever. I know that it's impossible, circumstances being what they are, but I promise you that I will always be true to you, that I will come when you send for me, and that when you do, I will spend every possible moment cherishing you for the incredible woman you are. You are everything to me," he finished, reaching out with reverent fingers to trace her cheekbone, their hands still entwined.

"Oh, William," she sighed happily. "I loved and admired you as a boy, but now it is so much more! I still do love and admire you - both the boy you were and the man you've become - but I also respect you, and I trust you implicitly. When you hold me, pain fades and I feel protected, safe. When you look at me, the rest of world fades away and I do not wish it back. You are my anchor in the worst of times, even in the years we were apart. I love you. You are the best man I have ever known and my dearest friend besides. I hope someday to be your partner and your helpmeet, to share your burdens and lighten your heart. You are my life, my hope and my future."

Her words moved him, and William prayed that he could truly become the man she saw in him - because at this moment, he knew without a doubt that he was utterly unworthy of her hand and her devotion.

Lizzy swallowed hard, biting back the emotion that threatened to overtake her and prayed that she could be everything he would need in coming years - because at this moment, she knew without a doubt that she did not deserve this man, nor the adoration in his eyes.

The moment dragged on, the young couple wrapped in a vibrant world of their own, until Mr. Darcy began to cough violently.

Fitzwilliam immediately dropped her hands and rushed to his father's side, alarmed at the wet sound of it. "Father?!" he cried in a panic, moving to support George before noticing that Mr. Gardiner already bore his weight.

Mr. Darcy waved him off, saying between coughs that he was well, merely overtired from all the excitement of recent days, and surreptitiously tucking the crimson-spotted handkerchief he held back into a pocket.

When the spell ended, Mr. Darcy proclaimed them man and wife saying that, though it may not have been their intent, the promises they had just made were finer wedding vows than many he'd heard in his time, and, as Scotland required nothing more than an exchange of such personal vows before two witnesses, they'd best head back to the inn and record the marriage.

And so they all piled back into the carriage, though not before Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth turned back to carve their initials into the tree beneath which they'd pledged themselves to each other.

…

 _4 years later...End of August, 1815_

Fitzwilliam Darcy stared down at the innocuous letter in his hand, a deep sense of foreboding imitating (quite accurately) the nauseous feeling from last winter's illness.

He hadn't heard from Lizzy in 4 years and had begun to hope that they might just make it to her birthday. His only consolation after last month's fiasco with Wickham and Georgiana was that Elizabeth must still be safe - or as safe as she could be in that madman's house - for she had yet to contact him. But here was a letter, written in her hand, and he almost wished to leave the seal intact in order to continue in blissful ignorance of whatever ill news her missive was sure to contain.

 _Never opening it will not change her reality, only your delusions, Fitzwilliam. Pull yourself together and prepare to uphold the promises you made under that tree._

With a deep breath to steady his nerves, if not his shaking fingers, Fitzwilliam broke the seal and opened the letter he had received by express.

 _Dear sir,_

 _I fear he seeks to take by force something that is mine alone to give. Please come quickly._

 _Forever Yours,_

 _\- E._


	8. Chapter 7

Fitzwilliam Darcy, Master of Pemberley, stood anxiously in a corner of the packed Assembly Room in the town of Meryton. Not only was he supremely uncomfortable in such crowds and settings as these, but he had yet to catch a glimpse of Lizzy and had arrived in Hertfordshire a scant 2 hours prior, leaving him just enough time to stable his horse and change out of his travelling clothes before Charles had forced him back out of the house.

He had intended to go directly to Longbourn upon his arrival, but, he reflected, perhaps this was for the best. After all, it was quite likely that Mr. Collins, who by all accounts took great pride in his position as a member of the landed gentry and the husband of an exceptionally handsome woman, would attend with his wife (and possibly some of her sisters) in tow. Then Fitzwilliam would be able to see something of the current circumstances for himself and consider how to act, rather than bursting into an unknown and highly volatile situation.

Perhaps at this assembly he might even have the opportunity to secure a set with Lizzy - if she was in attendance - and arrange for a more private meeting with her the next day, all without setting off Mr. Collins.

 _There!_ he thought suddenly as a dark head slipped through the crowd, only to be disappointed when the head turned and yet another unfamiliar face flashed through his line of sight. This was not the first time he believed himself to catch a glimpse of the wife he hadn't seen in 4 years, only to be disappointed when a better view revealed a stranger.

He slumped back against the wall with a grunt when Charles approached him. "Come Darcy," said he. "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing around by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance." Fitzwilliam was just opening his mouth to give his friend an irritated response when there was a mild commotion at the doors to the room. A small party was being welcomed into the room by Sir William Lucas and his family.

A dark head caught his attention and he turned to his friend. "Charles, if you can obtain an introduction for us to the family that has just arrived, I will promise to ask one of the young ladies for a dance. Does that satisfy you?"

"Wh-why yes!" Charles stammered in surprise at his friend's easy acquiescence before a broad grin engulfed his features. "Well then, we had best go and find Sir William Lucas at once!" he declared, before heading off in the direction of the doors. Darcy rolled his eyes at Bingley's enthusiasm and followed him across the room, albeit at a rather more sedate pace.

Moments later, he found his friend already in the midst of introductions to a tall, heavy man with an air of great self-importance and the very handsome, quiet young woman at his side. Fitzwilliam heaved an internal sigh before clearing his throat and glaring pointedly at Charles.

"Oh!" Bingley exclaimed before turning to address the couple before him, "I beg your pardon! Mr. and Mrs. Collins, may I present my friend, Mr. Darcy of Pemberley? Darcy, Mr. and Mrs. Collins of Longbourn."

"Mr. Darcy!" exclaimed Mr. Collins, extending his hand magnanimously to shake Fitzwilliam's, who afterward had an intense desire to wipe the slimy feel of it from his fingers. "An honor, I assure you, sir. An honor!"

Darcy knew not what he answered, as his mind and eyes, indeed his whole being, was arrested at the sight of a beloved face. So immersed in her presence was he that he nearly smiled in relief at the vision she presented before he remembered where he was and the odious man standing not three feet away.

Mrs. Collins noticed the mutual inattention of her sister and their new acquaintance as her husband returned to his conversation with Mr. Bingley and spoke softly, "Mr. Darcy, may I introduce my sister to you, Miss Bennet? Lizzy, this is Mr. Darcy."

"Thank you Jane. Mr. Darcy, a pleasure to meet you, sir," Elizabeth replied shyly as she dipped into a shaky curtsy. He was enchanted, her eyes were even more engaging than he had remembered. Indeed, everything he recalled about her seemed to have amplified in the years since their wedding. Her hair was darker and glossier, her figure more pleasing, and her voice more musical than ever - though in all honesty he couldn't be certain that any of these things had changed over the years, or if it was merely that her presence, her beautiful spirit, infused everything around her and so improved every good thing.

"Miss Bennet," he murmured in reply, bowing before her. "I assure you that the pleasure is mine, and if you are not otherwise engaged, may I request the honor of your next set?"

She laughed lightly at this, fondly, before making her reply. "You may Mr. Darcy. If you wish, you may also escort me to the refreshment table." She was teasing him, the darling creature! He had missed the way her eyes danced when she did that.

Fitzwilliam extended his arm in a silent offer and she glanced quickly at her cousin before taking it and drawing him toward the refreshments.

"Lizzy," he began quietly once they had secured some of the offered punch.

"Not here," she hissed, quickly cutting him off.

"Forgive me, Miss Bennet," he replied in a normal voice. "I only wished to inquire after your health and that of your sisters."

Understanding his subtle request for information, Elizabeth replied in kind. "We are all well at the moment. I thank you for your prompt and kind inquiry, sir."

As they finished their coded conversation, as well as their punch, the music announcing the next set began and Darcy led her to the floor.

With the music to cover up any whispered words, William inquired, "Do you still walk each morning?"

"Yes, when I can get away," Lizzy replied with a puzzled frown.

"And can you get away tomorrow morning?"

"I believe so. Everyone else will sleep late after tonight's assembly."

Raising his voice to a normal level once more. "Are there any particular paths in the neighborhood which you would recommend Miss Bennet?"

"Yes, sir! I myself have a particular fondness for the view from Oakham Mount - especially at sunrise. It is difficult to find a prettier prospect in these parts."

"I believe I shall have to see it for myself. There are several truly spectacular views on my estate in Derbyshire, but if you believe this one to be so extraordinary, then I must at least give it a fair trial."

As the music swelled and they came together once more, he whispered, "And just where is Oakham Mount, Lizzy?"

Her laugh rang out, warm, sweet, and happy for the first time she could remember in years and William smiled at the knowledge that he had been the cause.

…..

Darcy arose early the next morning, earlier even than he was ordinarily wont to do, dressed himself, and set out to follow the directions that he had managed to secure from the staff the previous night.

He paused at the top of Oakham Mount in order to take in the vista before him; it truly was a magnificent sight in the clear pre-dawn light, all rolling hills and green fields framed by the trees on either side of the path. The most breathtaking aspect however was the slim figure leaning against said trees in bonnet and pelisse, her back to him as she waited for the sunrise.

He approached quietly, leaning forward to whisper playfully in her ear, "Good morning, Miss Bennet."

She jumped at the breath on her neck and ear before laughing as she realized who it was. "That's Mrs. Darcy to you," she teased, turning her head just enough to make eye contact.

"Mmmm," he murmured, drawing her to him and relishing the feel of her in his arms again. "So it is, Mrs. Darcy," he laughed as he placed a gentle kiss on the side of her neck.

Lizzy exhaled on a happy sigh, allowing herself to bask in this happy reunion for a moment before turning to face him fully, his arms still around her, and addressing the reason for their clandestine meeting.

"Oh William, I don't know what to do! I'm so afraid!" she cried.

"What is it, Lizzy? What has he done now?"

"It's the way he looks at me, William! The beatings have gotten ever so much better over the last few years. I know what sets him off now and have been able to avoid it and to reign in the others - Kitty and Lydia especially - as they've grown. But recently he has begun to look at me in a way that makes my skin crawl!" she said, shuddering at the memory, her voice shaking when she plowed on. "I fear...well I fear that he wants to take my virtue. I've taken to locking the door to my room at night, and even placing the chair beneath the knob! So far he hasn't actually attempted anything though, so I may have called you away from your duties unnecessarily. I'm sorry to be such a burden." She dropped her eyes as she said this, ashamed to have allowed her fears to prey on her.

"Lizzy," William replied soothingly, leaning back to catch her eyes again. "You ought never to be afraid in your own home. You were right to send for me. Besides," he smiled, "what greater duty do I have than to assist my wife when she requests my presence? You could never be a burden when you bring me such light!"

Drawing a shaky breath, Elizabeth raised her head. "You are too good," she whispered, laying her hand along his cheek and feeling the prickly stubble that had accumulated during the night.

William caught his breath at her touch and groaned at the intimate feeling of her fingers on his unshaven face. "Lizzy," he exhaled, closing his eyes, only to open them wide a second later as he felt her step even closer to his body - close enough to feel her radiating heat in the chill of the morning, but not close enough to be touching.

In light of what she had just shared, he refrained from crushing her to his body and kissing her senseless - but oh how he wished to! _Then again_ , he thought to himself, _is that truly what I want our first kiss to be?_ No matter, they had more pressing matters to address, so he willed back his desire, kissing her palm as he took her hand from his face and encased it with his own.

"Lizzy, we need to get you out of that house," he stated, knowing it would never be that easy with his Elizabeth even before she began shaking her head. "Lizzy," he growled, "I need you to be safe! These last four years have been torture for me - never knowing how you were, if you were well, if he was beating you again, if your sisters were in danger, yet trying to respect your wishes and allow you to remain when I had the power to remove you! Now that I am here, I need to know that you are safe.

"Please!" he begged. "We need not flee the county yet if you wish, but perhaps I could persuade Miss Bingley to invite you to visit sometime? That would get you out of his house for at least part of the day. And I need you to promise me that we will leave the moment he _does_ make an attempt! Can you do that? For me? For my sanity?"

"Yes, William. I can make that promise," she replied gently, reaching out to grasp his other hand as well. "And if Miss Bingley, or any other woman in the neighborhood for that matter, invites me to visit, I will be glad to accept. Does that satisfy you?"

"Absolutely not!" he cried. "But it does help. Thank you, Elizabeth," he said as he pulled her back into his arms and buried his nose in her hair, content, for now, to have her here with him and to hold her thus.


End file.
